


Fictober Prompt: I might just kiss you

by balfrey



Series: revery [3]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Fanfiction, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Injury Recovery, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-11-26 08:16:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20927039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/balfrey/pseuds/balfrey
Summary: On the journey from Haven to Skyhold, Solas tends to Isla's injury. They share a tense moment in the medic tent.





	Fictober Prompt: I might just kiss you

The fall of Haven was still fresh in the minds of its refugees as they made the journey through the Frostbacks. Despite the devastating losses – homes, friends, comfort – the people were full of hope as the Herald led them deeper into the mountains. 

“We will reach our destination soon,” Solas said to her.

They stood by a fire as the camp bustled and readied for rest as darkness fell around them. 

“How soon?”

“On the morrow. Perhaps the day after.”

“Good,” Isla replied, warming her hands.

“How is your wound?”

“It…” she paused, palming her side, “it is not as bad.”

He frowned, turning to face her.

“Come,” he said.

–

In the medic tent, Isla sat down on the bedroll, clenching her jaw.

“You should tell me when it pains you,” he said as he sat cross legged beside her on the ground.

Isla nodded absently as she began pulling at the ties of her armor. Solas helped her remove each piece until only her tunic remained. She lifted it above her head, grimacing.

“Quit frowning at me,” she said, laying down.

Solas said nothing as he removed the wrapping around her ribcage. The wound, terrible as it was, looked better. He used a warm washcloth to clean the dried blood. She cried out. He reached for her clenched fist with his left hand, and she held it tightly.

In his mind’s eye, Solas saw the metal that had impaled the tender skin of her abdomen. He remembered her scream as it was pulled out. The memory of her blood, her exposed rib. The healing process had been slow. 

“You will have another scar,” he commented. Magic coursed through his fingers, glowing as he worked. 

When he finished, she let out a sigh of relief. She felt a smile pull at her lips, holding his hand to her chest before she remembered that she lay before him wearing only a breast band to cover her torso. The smile flitted away as a blush overcame her. Solas pretended not to notice.

He helped her sit up and began wrapping a clean cloth around her. The ridges of her spine cast small shadows down her back. 

Then, “Thank you.”

“Think nothing of it,” he replied, gently securing the wrap. 

“No,” she said, eyes burning with pained emotion, “They do not know how much they owe you. You have saved us. And you… you have saved me… more than once.”

She reached for his hands and he allowed her to hold them. Her bare shoulders heaved with words unsaid. He could not look away from her.

“I am more than happy to help,” he said quietly, “You are our surest salvation.”

“And you are mine,” she said fiercely, her hands tightening around his, “I cannot tell you how much… how much that means to me.”

He blinked at her, his eyes dark in the tent.

“Careful, da’len. If you persist in this, I might just kiss you.”

Isla’s lips parted in shock before the blush deepened across her face. Outside the tent, voices called, the sounds of dinner carried past them as they stared at each other.

“Solas, I-”

“There you are, Herald,” Leliana said, popping her head into the medic tent. “When you are finished, we have matters to discuss.”

“Of course. I’ll just be a moment,” Isla said, wincing slightly as she stood too quickly.

Leliana hid her smirk at the blush on the young elf. Solas, typically stoic, had begun disposing of the used medical supplies around them. The spymaster left them in their unbridled tension.

Solas helped her dress in silence, careful not to let his fingers linger on Isla’s exposed skin. It was only after her parka was secure that he allowed himself to look into her face again, his expression unreadable. She wanted to say it, to tell him-

He lifted a finger to touch the old scar on her face, a now familiar gesture between them. 

“There is work to be done, da’len. We will have time to speak later.”

She nodded. She took a breath as he stepped away and through the flap of the tent, looking over his shoulder at her with the smallest of smiles. Isla followed him into the cold night air of the mountains.

**Author's Note:**

> Solavellan trash because why not! Thank you for reading! Originally posted on Tumblr as part of the Fictober 2019 event. Writing prompt 5 - "I might just kiss you."


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